


A Christmas Break

by Auginess



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Christmas Party, Christmas Special, Dealing with the loss of a loved one, Hurt/Comfort, Jon Has Issues, Made up timeline, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Solitude, Tim has issues, implied Elias Bouchard/ Peter Lukas, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28323849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auginess/pseuds/Auginess
Summary: “Talk to us! We were your friends, Jon”.“Were?” He said with the smallest of voices.“I can’t talk for Martin”“Talk for yourself then. Are we friends?”“No”Sometimes a friendship needs to end so it can be rebuilt.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	A Christmas Break

**Author's Note:**

> I’m totally making up the timeline for this one. Placed somewhere between the not Sasha incident in the tunnels and the Unkowing. Enjoy anyways!
> 
> Spoilers for season 1, 2 and the first half of season 3!

Tim wasn’t in the mood for partying, he didn’t think anyone in the archives was. But his employee’s lack of Christmas spirit didn’t seem to bother Elias, who had made very clear they were all expected to go to the Magnus Institute’s Christmas Party. Of course, Tim had considered staying home, after all, it wasn’t as if Elias was going to fire him or something, but he had finally decided it was not a good idea to anger him. After all, Elias had his own agenda. That was something he had made clear over, and over, and over… and over. He was sure that them going to the party was somehow part of his plan, but Tim just didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. For all Tim cared, Elias could play the evil corporate all he wanted. 

He just wished he didn’t use them as peons, disposable tokens he could place wherever he wanted and force them to do whatever he wanted. He just wished he respected them enough to draw the line of what was acceptable somewhere.  _ Anywhere _ , really. He just wished he had had the decency of telling him that his best friend had been murdered and replaced by a monster and that all their pictures, videos, and memories together had been twisted and corrupted in the process.

If he had told him, he would have tried to remember her harder. He would have held to the sound of her laugh with his life, he would have found those tapes only he knew (and Elias,  _ of course _ ) knew about and hid them somewhere safe. So that there was at least something that served as a testimony that Sasha had once lived.

But, no. That was too much to ask for. Instead, Elias allowed him to believe that  _ that thing _ was Sasha. Hell. He let him take her home and tell her his secrets just like he used to. But the worst part was that Elias wasn’t the only one to blame. After all, he had kissed the monster who killed Sasha on the cheek and ignored how weird the skin had felt under his lips. He had ignored the way Sasha grew colder, meaner, and crueller, too caught up in his self-pity to realise that something was wrong with his friend. Instead, he had thought he was the problem, like the self-centred asshole he was. He had thought that the Prentiss incident had somehow changed him, broken him in a way that made him so unrecognizable that not even Sasha could stand him.

However, the fucking Prentiss attack? That could be blamed entirely on Elias. Because he had known that she was there, waiting, and had done nothing to prevent the attack that had stolen two of his best friends. Because it hadn’t been just Sasha he had lost that day, but Jon too. After the attack he had become paranoid, acting like he thought everyone was a potential threat to his life, refusing to talk to him just like not Sasha did. Despite having Martin there, Tim had felt utterly alone during those months. Even now, looking back to those blurred days, all he could remember was using the lunch breaks to cry in the bathrooms stalls of the artefact storage and drinking himself to sleep every night, terrified of talking to Sasha and finding she just didn’t care about him, terrified that Jon would do something really stupid and terrified he was going to drag Martin down with him if they spent just one more second together. 

All he could remember was life before the Prentiss incident, an appalling succession of unremarkable sad days and life after the Leitner incident when suddenly everything clicked into place. 

And that was why he hated Elias so much.

He could have stopped everything with just a single word. He could have saved him so much pain and fear, but he had decided not to. He had seen everything they were going through and had deliberately decided to let him suffer. 

That was why he almost screamed when Elias told him that he expected him, Martin and Jon to go to the office Christmas party. Team Building is important, he had said. Well, team building usually started with not allowing monsters to replace part of that team and doing nothing while the boss went on a stalking spree. But apparently, Elias thought the key part was showing up for a fucking Christmas party.

He found little relief in knowing that the rest of the “team” was coming too. Martin coming was okay, but Jon… Well, they weren’t talking that much lately. The way their friendship broke apart, quickly deteriorating due to Jon’s paranoia and his own inability to reach for anyone… it was unexplored territory for Tim. It wasn't the painful but peaceful way friends tended to become acquaintances. It was more like a wild forest fire that had consumed all the love they had had for each other and turned it into sourness and rivalry. It hurt like a breakup, but it was somehow worse because he just couldn’t cut Jon from his life. Besides, he just didn’t know what to do with all the things he knew about Jon, all the things he learned about him while they were still friends, all the feelings that he once felt for him that weren’t hatred or fear. In his darkest hours, he had wished Jon had died during the attack too so that things would have been easier, but the thought was too selfish even for him.

But just because he didn’t (really) want him dead didn’t mean that he was looking forward to talking to him at the Christmas party.

Still, Tim’s luck had always been remarkably bad, so, of course, the first person he saw when he made it to the party was Jon. He had made an effort to look somewhat decent, wearing a forest green knitted sweater Tim was pretty sure that was new, and a crisp white shirt underneath it. He had even combed his hair and tied it back in a half up half down style he had never seen on him. Although to be fair, he had never seen Jon in any situation that required a less casual dress code. It suited him.

He was not drinking from a plastic cup, half sitting on a window frame, looking everyone from a distance.

He must have stared for too long because Jon sensed his gaze and turned to him. Tim gave him a quick nod and walked further into the hall and as far from Jon as he could manage. Fortunately, the room was very spacious. It looked like something taken out of a period movie, with expensive-looking chandeliers hanging everywhere and ample balconies at both sides. He was planning to go to the corner opposite Jon's to brood in peace near one of those balconies, but he saw Elias and a tall old man chatting nearby, so instead decided to look for something to drink.

“Tim!” He turned around to find Martin and Rosie just behind him.

“Hi, Martin. Rosie” He forced a smile. 

“Looking for someone?” Rosie asked, softly. Tim knew immediately she referred to Jon. It was probably office gossip at that point.  _ Why aren’t Jon and Tim talking anymore? they used to be friends _ . If only they knew.

“Just to get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

“Some eggnog will be nice”. She smiled affably.

“Sure! Martin?”

“I’ll just go with you. We will be right back, Rosie” He waited until they were out of earshot before asking anxiously “Have you seen Jon?” Tim let out a soft sigh. Of course, that would be his priority tonight, finding Jon and making sure he was alright. 

“No” He lied, with just the slightest pang of guilt.

“Oh, I was hoping he would show up”. He looked like a sad puppy and Tim awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“Maybe he is just coming late, got distracted with a statement or something. You know him”.

Martin didn’t look convinced at all.

“Yeah, maybe”. The asshole didn’t deserve him, truly. 

Tim didn’t push it. Instead, he allowed himself to be pulled to the small group Rosie was talking to and put on his best smile. He had mastered the art of acting like everything was fine a long time ago. 

Eventually, it got too much. He had had just a bit too much wine and the Michael Bublé Christmas playlist that had been playing on repeat the last few hours was giving him a headache.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” He told Martin, who just nodded, distractedly.

Elias and the man had returned to the same spot near the balcony after the small turn they had taken around the room to say hi to everyone, and now they seemed to be fighting. Best not to get close, he supposed. He allowed himself to look to the side of the room he had seen Jon earlier and found it empty. He had probably left early, which meant that the balcony on that side of the hall was probably empty and he could really use some fresh air.

He got to the balcony as fast as he could and closed the door behind him in an attempt to muffle the Christmas music. He sighed relieved when he listened to the loud click the door made when it locked.

“I don’t think you can open the balcony from the outside, Tim”. The man jumped.

Leaning against the wall with an almost consumed cigarette in his hand was Jonathan Sims.  _ Of course. _ Tim tried to open the door, just to prove him wrong, but it didn’t move.

“Great”. He hated how he was always right. Smug bastard- 

“If we knock on the door hard enough, someone will come and open it”.

Tim nodded in the semi-darkness. He was sure someone would open the door, but he just didn’t want to draw anybody’s attention toward them just now. He needed some peace and Jon seemed to think the same because he didn’t move from where he was standing.

“I thought you didn’t smoke anymore”. Tim knew it was a stupid thing to say, but he couldn’t help but notice. He remembered how hard it had been for him quitting the habit.

The other man just shrugged.

“I’m… under a lot of stress I guess”.

“Ah. Yes. Still thinking I might kill you, Jon?” It came less playful than he intended, he couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice.

“No. Elias was the murderer”. It amazed him how fast Jon had accepted their boss was a fucking psychopath and how little affected he seemed by it. 

“I was the one who got stalked though”

He heard John take a deep breath in and it made his blood boil because if he tried to justify his paranoia one more fuckin time –

“Yeah, and I’m sorry”. He felt his anger leave him as if someone had punched it out him.

“Excuse me?”

“I said I’m sorry,” he said raising his voice over the music “I should have trusted you, or, at least, shouldn’t have treated you as a potential killer”

“And stalked me”.

“And stalked you”.

Tim said nothing, and Jon took that as his cue to explain himself.

“After I learnt that Gertrude had been murdered, I thought I was next. And after all the not Sasha situation… I just convinced myself that whoever was going to hurt me was inside the archives. I know it’s a poor excuse, but I really believed I was protecting myself”.

Jon shifted a few inches closer to Tim and rested his arms on the balcony. Tim looked at him for a few seconds before going back to look at the cloudy night sky.

“I understand you were trying to protect yourself Jon, but we didn’t deserve all the hell you gave us. Look, there are some redlines you crossed and shouldn’t have. For fuck sake Jon, you followed me to my house!”

“I- I don’t know what else I could have done, honestly”

Tim let out an incredulous laugh.

“Talk to us! We were your friends, Jon”.

“Were?” He said with the smallest of voices.

“I can’t talk for Martin”

“Talk for yourself then. Are we friends?”

“No” The archivist just nodded solemnly, but for a moment, there was deep sorrow in his eyes. He hid it fast enough “Jon, look, I’m sorry but-” 

“It’s alright”. His face was unreadable again “I get it. I really do. And, for whatever its worth, I’m sorry”.

Tim was at loss for words. He would have thought that getting that apology from Jon would have been liberating, but he didn’t feel like that at all. He felt… meaningless. As if now that he had the apology, he just couldn’t remember why he was angry at Jon. As if those two words had been all he needed to hear and now the part of him that had been feeding his rage towards Jon was satisfied. 

Jon knocked a few times on the glass door of the balcony, until someone finally opened, and stepped inside with a smile and the poor excuse that they had been smoking. Tim didn’t come inside, not feeling worthy of the warmth of the hall. Instead, he just looked at him go, stopping first to wish a very merry Christmas to Martin, and then leaving the party.

Watching him go had a definitive feeling to it.

Tonight, Tim had only put words to something he had been knowing for a while: that after all those years Jon and he were not friends anymore. But now he couldn’t stop thinking that with Sasha dead and Jon out of his life, presumably forever… he was more alone than he had ever been.

Of course, he had Martin, bless his soul, but that didn't help that much. Since Danny’s death, he went from a relatively big group of friends to three coworkers he could call friends, now down to one. And he hated it because he had been truly happy when he was friends with Sasha and Jon, later Martin. They had been a place of quiet peace when everything else (the supernatural, the revenge, the nightmares of clowns skinning people alive) had been too much for him to take.

And now he had lost that too.

It took him a while to decide he wanted to go back home, crawl beneath his covers and hope for a dreamless night (it wasn’t easy going out when it was dark nowadays) but he eventually made up his mind. He was originally planning on waiting for Martin and maybe offering him to stay the night at his apartment, just so that he didn’t have to be alone, but… But he looked like he was having fun and didn’t want to be a burden for him.

On his way out, he found Elias and the other man waiting for a cab as well. They looked like they had just a bit too much to drink, but somehow his boss was able to keep the cold, calculating look in his eyes. He smiled without any feeling when he got closer.

“Goodnight, Tim,” He said, sweetly “And merry Christmas”.

“Same to you, if eldritch horrors celebrate Christmas, that’s it”.

“Not an eldritch horror, but I appreciate the thought” He answered. The first cab arrived, but just as Elias opened the door, the other man grabbed him by the shoulder. The smell of rum on his breath made Tim dizzy.

“Won’t be a happy Christmas for you, right? You are so lonely".

The way he said those words, with pity but also as if he was taking some sort of sick pleasure in it, made Tim shiver.

“Peter lets go,” Elias called from behind.

The man, Peter, just smiled softly and pat Tim on the shoulder once, before joining Elias in the cab.

Tim took in a shaky breath, the words the man had drunkenly whispered to him haunting him, filling him with a deep fear of solitude.

\--- 0 ---

Of course, Tim couldn’t catch his sleep until the morning, until he had something similar to a plan, more based on spite than any actual reasoning. Sometimes, though, spite was enough.

He woke well past midday and immediately set to work. The plan was very simple, but he needed to sort a few insignificant details first. The first one was the easiest: he just needed to get  _ a lot _ of alcohol ready. And a lot was a lot, because if the plan ended up in failure, he wanted at least to be able to get drunk. Next, he needed Jon’s house address. With the institute closed, that last part was way more difficult, but after so many years with Sasha one learnt a few tricks.

Once he got everything sorted out, he changed into something just on the side of too nice for a casual meeting and left his house.

One hour before dinner he was standing at Jon’s door. He knocked on it before he could change his mind because really, this was a very bad idea. 

Jon opened the door wearing a pair of old-looking pyjamas and his hair tied on a bun. He blinked twice as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Tim?” He looked tense, but Tim couldn’t blame him. After all, he had shown up unannounced.

“Merry Christmas, boss! Figure out you would be spending Christmas eve alone, just like me, and thought that I could drop by”. It sounded forced even to his ears, the cheerful tone too out of place after last night’s conversation. 

Jon didn’t answer him but moved to the side so he could come in. Tim did so and then took his shoes off because Jon looked like the kind of guy who would have a “no shoes” rule at home.

He followed him, wordlessly, to his living room, looking around.

Jon’s apartment was small and messy. It looked like most of his furniture had been inherited and there were books, files and tapes scattered everywhere. Tim was sure that if he were to look inside his bedroom he would find a whiteboard with Jon’s discoveries on the supernatural connected by a bright red cord. There was just one picture decorating the cramped shelves: the picture they had taken more than a year ago on Jon’s birthday, but Sasha’s face had been covered by a post-it. He realized that he must have spent his birthday alone this year.

“Uh, nice place, boss”.

“Thank you”.

Tim sat down on an old-looking couch and Jon sat across him. 

“Uh, Tim?” He said when the silence became too long. 

“Yes?”

“What are you really doing here”

Tim huffed a small laugh. Good question,

“I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with you”. 

“I thought we weren’t friends”.

“We are not”. He watched him frown slightly. “But I think we could be friends again. If you want, of course”.

Jon's eyes lit up and Tim felt warmth in his chest.

“I- yes. What do I have to do?” The eagerness in his voice let him know that Jon was very, very lonely as well.

“Well, first of all, no more secrets. I want to know what you are researching that got you so worried and everything Leitner told you about the supernatural as well”. He waited for Jon to nod.

“Okay“ He didn’t sound too sure, but Tim decided to let it slide. “What else do you want me to do”.

“Oh, you know, the basics. Communication, not stalking, not insulting, not conspiring with our evil boss against me… I don’t think I’m asking for much”.

Jon nodded again and then took a deep breath.

“Okay, so, where do you want to start?”

Tim almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. So, Jon was really serious about this one. Good.

“Dinner” He answered because after all, that was the plan “And tomorrow we can discuss the horrors lurking in the shadows”. Jon relaxed visibly.

“A Christmas dinner, then?”

“Yes,” He offered him a small smile.

“I should have frozen lasagna and some stuff in the fridge, let me just-“

“I’ll cook. You go take a shower and dress up” He said, standing up. Jon looked down at his old pyjamas and nodded again.

“I- ok”. He met his eyes once again. “Thank you”. He said, and Tim knew he wasn’t talking about the cooking.

The lasagna was frankly quite awful, but at least the wine wasn’t, and they found themselves getting a bit drunker than what they should probably have gotten given the circumstances, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.

“Why did you come?” Jon asked after a particularly long silence and Tim knew he wasn’t referring to the poor excuse he had offered earlier. 

Tim made an effort to sit up from where he was lounging on the couch. He groaned when he felt his head dizzy.

“I don’t have many friends. Didn’t want to lose another”. Tim was surprised with how honestly he responded. “And besides, Elias boyfriend or whatever told me I was going to be very alone tonight, and I didn’t want him to be right. So yeah, fear of solitude and spite”.

“Elias boyfriend?”

Tim shrugged.

“Maybe he was a friend. I don’t know. They left together”. Jon nodded absently.

“Well, thank you, then. I didn’t want to lose you either”.  _ After losing Sasha _ , Jon didn’t say, but Tim heard it anyway.

“It’s not the same without her”. Tim whispered.

“No, it’s not. How are you doing? You were very close”. It still stung to talk about her. 

_ Fine _ he wanted to say because he really didn’t want to think about it right now 

“Awful,” he said instead. “But the worst part is knowing I won’t remember her. The real her I mean” Tim’s eyes shot open. He sure as hell didn’t want to say those words. “Jon, I-“

“Sorry” He slurred “Still working on that”.

“On what?”

Jon waved a hand as if that would make Tim understand it better.

“I don’t exactly know yet”.

“Ah”. He said although he didn’t understand anything. He let the silence wash over them again as he refilled his cup. He felt Jon shifting closer so he could rest his hand on his shoulder, to offer some comfort. Tim smiled. He was really bad at it. Nevertheless, he leaned towards him, because he sure as hell could use some human contact right now. 

Minutes passed like that and eventually the heavy blanket of sorrow that flooded the room disappeared, leaving instead the inebriated peace they had gotten themselves into. 

“Tim?” Jon broke the silence again. 

“Yes?”

“How did you get my address?” 

“I, um, found it”

“Tim…” There was a warning note in his voice that made him cackle.

“You know what they say. If you stalk a stalker, the number of stalkers in the world stays the same”

“I’m pretty sure your math is wrong. Besides the quote refers to killers”.

“I can fix that very easily” he wiggled his eyebrows at Jon, who in response just frowned and reached for his phone. Tim panicked for a second, maybe it was too soon to make that joke.

“Hey boss, it was just a joke, no need to call 999 or anything”

“I’m not calling the police, Tim”. He stretched his arm before them. “Smile”. However, Jon didn’t wait for him to obey.

“What- Boss, was that a  _ selfie _ ?”

“Yes, Tim. I know what a selfie is, shocking as you might find that”.

“I- wow. Just wow. What for?”

“I’m sending it to Martin. So that if I get killed, he knows you did it”.

Tim huffed a laugh.

“Aw, boss, you are going to regret this in the morning”.

On the other side of London, Martin was getting ready for bed after having dinner with his mother when a text arrived. From Jon.

His heart skipped a beat of pure panic as he opened as fast as he could, hands shaking. He didn’t want to think what could have possibly happened that would make Jon text him on Christmas eve. It was the first text he had received from him in months.

He felt a wave of relief and couldn’t suppress a smile when he saw the blurry selfie of him and Tim with two empty bottles of wine. One beat after another text chimed in.

“Kerry chrustams. X” Jon was so drunk he couldn’t write? That was something he never thought he would see. He was going to be so mortified in the morning.

“Merry Christmas, Jon”. He texted back with a smile, allowing himself to hope that maybe -just maybe- this meant things were getting back to normal. 

That would be the best Christmas gift he could wish for. 

**Author's Note:**

> Late Christmas story!!! A bit sadder than expected.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! Please take care


End file.
